


Pack

by LiinHaglund



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7703122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiinHaglund/pseuds/LiinHaglund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles always knew more about werewolves than Scott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pack

“I'm telling you, whoever bit you is a major douche for just leaving you to fend for yourself,” Stiles argues heatedly. “That can't be normal behavior. We would have known werewolves existed if that was normal behavior – just biting whoever come close enough? Not smart.”

“So...? So, you're saying when they do bite they drop by and give you a crash course in being a – what was that word?”

“Lycanthrope.” Stiles rubs his short hair. He hates it when his father shaves his head instead of taking him to the barber, but he sort of sees the appeal in the minimal maintenance and low expense. “It makes sense. Look, wolves live in packs. They sometimes go solo, but mostly to start a new pack. So if you're part wolf you need a pack, dude.”

“No I don't,” Scott says flippantly.

Stiles glares.

“I'd just rather not meet whoever bit me.”

Sighing and throwing his hands in the air in defeat Stiles drops the subject. He doesn't mention that he likes the idea of being in a larger group. Of belonging somewhere. He has his father and he has Scott and nothing else. Sure, he knows the whole town by name, has a few acquaintances he sort of likes, has relatives living far away in Europe... but it's not _enough_.

 

* * *

 

Stiles doesn't want more surprises after finding out the Jane Doe in the woods was actually Laura Hale, Derek's sister, so he looks the Hales up. Turns out, there is more of them. Derek has an uncle in Beacon Hills who's little more than a vegetable according to the file Stiles stole.

Also, Jane _Doe_ is kind of funny. Deer jokes aside, Stiles goes to see uncle Peter.

His nurse is creepy in a way that would give Stephen King inspiration for a whole novel, but she's about to get off her shift, so Stiles ends up alone with an extra crispy Hale for company. The guy obviously did not get away fast enough when the fire happened. That fire was a huge deal. Not only did the local news have a field day, the cops were grumbling over it for a while thanks to his father suspecting it was arson. Never did find proof, but Stilinski's are a stubborn bunch.

It's dusk, the setting sun paints the room orange instead of the artificial yellow of the fluorescent lights.

Stiles takes the chair set out of visitors and wonders if Laura dropped by Beacon Hills to visit her uncle. He cocks his head curiously at the thought. The nurse seemed too surprised anyone at all came to see Peter Hale for there to be a lot of visits. Or any. Stiles has the suspicion no one comes here.

“Blink if I'm right,” Stiles says to Peter. “Laura and Derek don't visit.”

Nothing happens. Peter looks like a half-burned shell. Vacant. Except he's not. Stiles has a hunch and he's usually correct about his hunches.

“Okay. Be that way,” Stiles mutters. He taps his fingers on his knees, then looks at his hands. He's willing to bet good money on the fact that he's right. Peter is all alone now, but he's probably never been alone before the fire. Peter was a part of the Hale pack at its prime. Stiles wonders how one would feel going from that to being stuck here, with no one to touch you. He looks straight into the man's eyes and decides to throw caution to the wind. If it was Stiles, he would want to be touched.

He gets up from the chair and walks the few steps over to Peter and runs his fingers through the too-long hair. There's probably twelve social rules he's violating right now. The scars feel strange.

“You're right.”

Stiles, as is his lot in life, startles and flails as he falls on his ass. The chair he sat on earlier gets flipped over. “Jesus,” he curses while he tries to make his heart calm by placing his hand on it, still on the floor.

Peter Hale looks amused. He hasn't moved as far as Stiles can tell, but there's something about his face that communicates smug amusement.

“Is this how you catch dinner? Scare people to death then -” Oh no, _no_ , not going down that road. “Nevermind. So. You're awake.”

Peter flexes his right hand, the look on his face has turned uninterested.

Stiles manages to stand up and rights the chair before sitting on it. “So, uh, your niece is dead. Laura. They found her cut in half. Well, they found one half then Scott and I dug the other up at the, uh... house. Where Derek is holed up.”

Peter moves his head enough to look Stiles in the eyes, but he's being very still. Too still.

“You know that,” Stiles decides.

“Go home,” Peter tells him.

Stiles decides that if Peter is just playing some elaborate act, he'd rather not end up his dinner. He's working on the assumption that Peter is a werewolf, which he is 99% sure is true. He leaves. While Derek easily has well over twenty pounds of muscle on Peter there's something about him that makes Stiles wary.

 

 

 


End file.
